


Worthless

by Anonymous



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Aftercare, Hardcore humiliation/degradation, M/M, Mindbreak, PWP, Post-Game, Sadomasochism, Sorry if this posts twice, Verbal Abuse, consensual hurt, toxic masculinity, warnings for:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 01:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15741528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Vent porn. 18+, all minors go away and read something else. Yaoi fans/proud fujoshi fuck off, this isn't for you.Kokichi Ouma seeks self-destruction in a love hotel for the sexually sick.





	Worthless

**Author's Note:**

> Hey seriously, if you were told not to read this, you shouldn't be. Because you don't have the capacity to understand what's acceptable here and what's fucking destructive. I don't want you internalizing something in here and thinking it's fine because it's "hawt sinful yaoiz" or whatever.
> 
> Go read something else.

Kokichi stares at the red "M64" stenciled onto his keycard. Coming here was a stupid idea and has been a stupid idea each time he's done it.

That's never stopped him, though.

He sits down on the bed and waits for his partner to arrive. This time his request is one simple line, typed in a drunken stupor with two index fingers and a pinky somehow.

_Make me regret being born._

Now he's sober and still in the mood for this shit. Not surprising. Only thing he's worried about is his partner pussying out and offering to just call him a greedy whore or a cock-thirsty slut instead of anything really substantial, which happens fairly often. It's fine, just awkward and not very exciting.

The chances of the pussying out increases tenfold if whoever it is recognizes him. Season 53, Ultimate Supreme Leader. Actually kind of a big deal. Not someone you want to spit on and jeer at, not with what he's been through. Pussies.

There's a clicking noise as the latch on the door slides open and participant S32 appears in the doorway brandishing his keycard. "Hey," he says. He's built, with close-shaven hair and a slight butt chin. Strong hands. Good. Ambiguously brown or green eyes that light up in after a second or two in a happy kind of way, in an "I'm your biggest fan" kind of way. Oh, brother.

"Hey," Kokichi says, waving. He pats the space on the bed next to himself. "Ready when you are."

S32 drops his weight onto the bed. He's wearing a muscle tee and jeans. Not bad. Looks like someone you wouldn't expect to find in a place like this, which is always nice. "Just to be clear, you're M64, right?" he asks.

"That's me."

"Okay. Also, you either look a lot like him or--"

"Yeah, that's me too. Better fuck me good this once because you're not seeing me again."

S32 smiles. "Okay."

At least he's got muscle. It'll give Kokichi something to ogle while this guy tries not to cream himself from being inside a Danganronpa star's anal cavity.

"Begin scene?" asks participant S32.

"Begin scene."

It's fairly standard for participants to put on a game face, so S32's sudden deadpan stare doesn't seem too goofy. If anything, it complements those heavy eyebrows. Makes him look like a brute. Kokichi prepares to become the mindless cumdump he's always been in these scenes.

Except he doesn't.

"Pretty bold of you to assume I recognized you before I even said your name, Momota."

Kokichi's eyes widen. "Wha--"

"Shit, wrong guy. You're the other one, Ooba or whatever? Ouma?" S32 rolls his neck, vertebrae crackling noisily. "Man, you were boring as fuck. It's always the D-list twinks with their five minutes of fame who turn up here looking for cock."

Kokichi's heart skips a beat. _Oh_ , he realizes, dizzy from the sudden surge of blood rushing away from his brain and into his crotch. _He went straight for the throat._ It's customary to play along with whatever your partner throws at you, so-- "Is S32-chan a fan of mine? Wow!" It feels strange. He hasn't put this particular mask on so decisively in years, but his racing pulse urges him on. "Sorry, but autographs are ten thousand yen apiece along with a hundred yen penalty for getting my name wrong. Pay up!"

S32 stares at his outstretched hand with the most incredulous, patronizing smile Kokichi has ever seen. "You still think you're hot shit? Give me a break." He slaps Kokichi's hand away and has the nerve to wipe his own fingers off on his pants as if he's touched a sewer rat. "I only remember your name because I've never seen anyone who looks more like a fucking cum rag than you do."

For a second or two, Kokichi isn't even sure how to respond. This isn't the cold, non-confrontational hatred he's used to. Not the averted gazes, the distrustful looks, the uncomfortable circles a conversation travels in when there's a five-foot-tall elephant in the room sitting at the dinner table wearing a shit-eating grin. This hatred is irrational and piping hot. He licks his lips. "Tax evasion, huh? What a boring crime. I ought to send my henchmen after you so you can get a taste of something truly heinous."

He sits criss-cross applesauce and waits for the response. It comes quickly, like S32 has been waiting to say it all his life. "Shut up with your evil secret organization bullshit already. Everyone knows you're a bunch of circus rejects who'd start crying if they saw a real gun."

Kokichi has never felt more submissive in his entire life. His body's growing hot under his T-shirt and he absently wonders how long he'll last before he's too horny to focus on a rebuttal. "Aw, someone's in a grumpy mood today. What's the matter? Are you scared of clowns?" He asks this enthusiastically, eyes glittering the same way they did back _there_. Enthusiastically, as if prodding at some poor stranger's deepest fears is his idea of amusement.

S32 grins, then starts roaring with laughter. Kokichi's face falls for a split second as a soft moan wells up in his throat. "Am I scared of clowns? Is that the best you've got now? Fuck, you were way better on TV." The moan slips out. Kokichi squirms, unconsciously rutting his hips into the mattress below. "But hey, since you wanted to know..." S32 leans forward, placing a firm hand on Kokichi's head and whispering directly into his ear. "I ain't scared of no fucking clowns. Especially when they're sissy bitch boys like you."

Kokichi can only gasp in pleasure as he's roughly pushed down onto the covers face-first, ass up. His tongue is heavy. He knows he should say something back, say something clever, stay interesting and keep the game going, but his head is full of nothing but _fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please_.

This is it.

This is the feeling he's become addicted to. Helpless, all semblance of control ripped away from him forcibly, unable to do anything but submit. Let somebody else take control. It's not his job to be interesting anymore, because he's just trash meant to be used as a cum rag.

_Break me, rip me apart, destroy me._

"Why are you here, huh?" S32's voice works its way to Kokichi's ears through watery static, far away, though he can still hear the words crystal clear because they make him pant. "Did you come here looking for someone who'd fuck your sorry ass because nobody you know wants to put up with your awful personality?" There's a finger jabbing into his left asscheek. He just barely registers the pressure of his erection against the front of his pants. "Face it. Nobody fucking likes you, not even a stranger you've just met. You're that repulsive."

"I dunno what you're talking about," he grits out, speaking into the sheets. "Everybody loves me! They're ready at a moment's notice to send me lots and lots of gifts if I'm feeling all bummed out!"

He's left the perfect opening. S32's hand is squeezing his ass. "But that's a lie," S32 sneers. Kokichi almost cums on the spot. _Yes. Tear me open._ "Isn't that your catchphrase? You yammer on about your stupid liar shtick so much you sound like a fucking Pokemon. All you do is talk out of your ass and you pretend like it's some clever mind game everyone else is too dumb to understand. Not even a mother could love an annoying runt like you. You're so fucking embarrassing."

There are fingers rubbing at his cock and balls through the fabric of his pants and he can't help himself. Kokichi whines loudly, bucking his hips.

"Look at you. You flunked out of your acting career and now you're whoring your little boyhole out to men you don't know. How can you stand to look anyone in the eye?" S32's other hand gropes the inside of his thigh. Kokichi bites down on his own hand to keep down the needy moan that comes surging up through his vocal chords.

"I've--I've never taken a cock before in my life," he denies weakly. "You're just--you're just making things up to slander me."

"Oh, okay. Guess you don't want my dick inside you, then. I'll be going." S32's weight lifts from the bed and Kokichi hears footsteps. His lust-addled brain whirls into a panic.

"Wait!" he cries out, scrambling to the foot of the bed, desperate and undignified.

"What? You said you don't deal with cock, so what's the point of me staying here?" S32 mocks. "You don't want this at all, right?" He gestures at the absolutely massive lump in his jeans. Kokichi can feel himself drooling.

"N-no, why would I--why should I--" He's trying to formulate a quip about the lump being something other than a dick when S32 unzips his fly, letting a girthy, ruddy cock spring out of his underwear like a jack in the box. At that exact moment, Kokichi's mind shatters.

"Well? Last call, do you want to suck it? If you're still going to lie to me I'm just going to leave." _That cock_ bobs up and down slightly as S32 teasingly strokes himself a couple times.

"Noooooo," Kokichi whimpers, wiggling his hips. "I mean--I mean yes, I wanna--"

"Prove it. Beg."

"Please let me--" he cuts off with a squeak as S32's thumb and index finger intrude his mouth mid-sentence and firmly pinch his tongue.

"Beg for me like a little bitch boy. That means you can't use your Rs or your Ls."

This isn't a request Kokichi has received before, and it takes him a second or two to understand, but when he does, his eyes glaze over. "Puh...Pwease," he begins. His face heats up. "Pwease wet me suck youw cock." He feels stupid. He feels so incredibly stupid.

"I'm not convinced."

"Pwease!" The humiliation courses through his body, burning up his core and shooting sparks of ecstasy up his spine. "I'm weawwy despewate! I'm gonna go cwazy if you...! If you don't...!"

"If I don't what?" The bulbous head of S32's throbbing length is growing closer and Kokichi's ability to think and speak is growing weaker.

"Shove it...down my thwoat..."

"Your what?"

"My...my thwoat..."

"You sound like a fucking idiot."

Kokichi moans in agreement. His mouth falls open on its own, waiting to be filled up with a thick, dripping cock.

"Well then. You've earned your treat, my little idiot." S32 pushes in, eliciting a garbled squeal of excitement.

Kokichi starts to suck sloppily, cheeks hollowing out every time he pulls back and puffing out when he gulps it back down. The feeling of the ridges and veins on the huge cock he's slurping up makes his eyes roll all the way back into his skull.

Over the wet squelching noises of his own overenthusiastic blowjob, he hears a voice. He tries to get his eyes to focus but they're full of glassy tears. His head is full of water. S32 is talking.

"Kokichi Ouma," he says, looming above like a dark tower of judgment, "Look at me. Look at my face." He is obeyed. "I want you to remember this face as the face of the man who broke you."

"Mmmmmmm!" Kokichi cries, tears streaming down his face, mouth full of dick, soaking the crotch of his pants with slimy spurts of precome. He's starting to believe that this wanton body of his may really be able to orgasm from oral alone.

A little longer and he might find out. His partner isn't that kind, though. S32 shoves him off, yanking away the string of spit that still connects them. "Strip," he barks.

It takes all of ten seconds for Kokichi to furiously rip his clothes off and clamber back onto the bed fully nude. "Lube?" he chirps helpfully, blinking violet eyes that have gone vacant from pleasure.

"No, your spit is enough."

"Okay."

"Yes, of fucking course we use lube, were you dropped on your fucking head? You'd think someone who's had this many dicks up his ass would know by now," S32 shouts.

Kokichi has no idea what kind of slutty expression he's making this time. All he registers is the movement of his legs as he scurries over to the nightstand and yanks out the lubricant. It's in a pump bottle, as usual. He fills his cupped palms with ponds of lube. His right hand slathers up his ass and his left spreads it all over his partner's length. Then he goes back for more, because you can never be too sure, and when he walks back over his asscrack feels like a slip and slide.

S32 is already waiting, sitting on the bed with his nice condom-encased cock sticking straight up. "Take a seat," he says.

Kokichi takes his damn seat and groans at how full he is. He wants to start moving, oh god does he want to start moving, but something is holding him down. Hands. Big, strong hands holding his pathetically weak legs in place.

S32's brute face fills up his vision. "How's this? Pretty good throne for a slutty supreme leader like you, don't you think?"

There are no more witty, interesting responses in Kokichi's empty head that will make an audience marvel at his scheming genius. He has no riddles to tell, no games to play. All he does is writhe and chant "yes, yes, yes" like it's the only thing tethering him to earthly existence.

S32 asks him something and he says "yes" without thinking. Then he's screaming that same word over and over again as the cock stretching his insides finds his sweet spot, the spot that makes him dumber than the dumbest airheaded blonde playing up her incompetence for TV. It's that spot that strips away all semblance of control he's ever had. His hips move on their own, slamming themselves down harder and harder so he can get even drunker off the feeling of being utterly useless. His vision blurs and fades out. His hands grasp at bunches of texture that he's just too fucking stupid to identify anymore.

It all coalesces into something brighter than the sun that rips through him, making his eyes see nothing but blinding white. Kokichi is gone. His orgasm has blasted him into oblivion. The flushed body being pumped to the brim with hot seed down in the love hotel is nothing but a simple animal, incapable of conscious thought.

_Destroy me._

 

  
\--

"You come here a lot?"

"At least it's not alcohol."

"Bet you there's a couple guys sitting at the bar right now with their whiskey sodas going "at least it's not gay sex.""

"Bet you they've never had gay sex. Bet you they've never had sex, period."

Participant S32 laughs. It sounds a little too familiar. The familiarity of his laughter is almost as irritating as the fact that he's a personal trainer at the fitness center nearby.

Kokichi turns over under the covers, his back still slightly damp between the shoulder blades after showering. He looks up at the guy he just fucked owlishly, expressionlessly.

"You know, I've...always wanted to fuck you," S32 says, almost shyly.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I loved your performance. I hated you one week and I loved you the next. You're an intense guy."

"Heh. Do you love me or hate me this week?"

S32 raises an eyebrow. Then he turns over to face Kokichi and lifts the covers with a bulky arm. Kokichi understands.

He nestles into the blanket-muscle cave tightly and feels that arm wrap around his back. At the same time, he feels someone else's arm holding him up from years ago, slung around his back as he drags himself to the hydraulic press controls.

He buries his face in S32's pecs and doesn't move. He feels safe.

"You feel like a dumbass I know," he murmurs distractedly.

"Do you miss Gonta?"

Kokichi scowls and thumps the chest he's squashed up against. "Don't flatter yourself, you're not that ripped."

"Sheesh, okay."

Seconds pass.

"Momota, then?"

Kokichi closes his eyes. "I wanted him to hug me before I went under."

"Ah."

"If you post that on Twiddler I'll track down your IP and shit on all your furniture."

"Yeah, yeah, you have my word, I won't." S32 ruffles his hair and it feels like how Kaito would have done it. Mussing it all up, back and forth, none of that pussy shit where you pet and stroke it like it's an easily frightened animal.

Kokichi wonders if Kaito still has pecs like these.

"Do you have his phone number? You should call him."

It's been a while. For all he knows Kaito stopped working out and became a fatass. He'll just have to bury his face in a pair of mantits instead. "Yeah, I guess."

He shoots the shit with S32 for a while longer before he suddenly rolls out of bed and gets dressed.

"Not gonna stay the whole time?"

"Uh-uh. I've got things to do. I'm a busy guy."

"Okay."

"But if you can manage to catch me outside, I'll grab a beer with you."

S32 grins. "What happened to at least it's not alcohol?"

"Best of both worlds?"

"Alright, fine."

S32 gets dressed. Kokichi begins to exit through his door, and S32 bolts out the other one like Kaito bolts into the girl's bathroom in that one clip from the season highlight reel.

Kokichi steps back into the room and collapses on the bed.

He has Kaito's phone number.

The ceiling is white.

He dials Kaito's phone number.


End file.
